When I was a little girl I ate lunch in the school cafeteria and I hated it. The food was pretty yuck, not to mention the marbled melamine 6 compartment lunch trays in off putting colors made it even worse. I never got to take my lunch and envied kids who did, like Ellen Pickens. She was tall, skinny and had the most beautiful hand writing I had ever seen. I thought she was pretty awesome especially because she thought the stuff on my lunch tray was cooler than the same stuff her Mom packed in her lunch sack. I couldn't believe that her Mom actually got up every morning and made her lunch. Heck, I couldn't believe that she even saw her Mom in the mornings before school. Ellen and I had an arrangement and we often traded treats at the lunch table. She had these giant Mexican cookies the size of my palms that I loved. They tasted like pure vanilla and something my Mom would never buy so for her to offer me these for my fruit cocktail or hardened brownie was a no brainer. I always felt like I came out ahead on that one.
This morning I was making lunch for my "Jellybean" as I do every morning. I packed up his snack of pretzels and threw those in his back pack and then started in on the PBJ sandwich that I carefully cut in a circle and it hit me how fun this part of being a Mom is. I do love grabbing this and that and putting it in the lunch box. It's fun for me to think of all the silly conversations that are taking place as straws are being wiggled out of plastic and forced in juice boxes, noses are being wrinkled at the "same thing" they are sent again for lunch, and the trades going on at those tiny round tables. I picture shoe laces untied, little feet swinging, napkins floating to the floor, and mouths wide open chewing, while chatter reaches audible levels irritating the cafeteria ladies. I feel a part of this event of my little boy's day even though I am not there and it all starts with the simple act of making a sandwich.